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My Friend Hot Ptah has passed.


Chuck Nessa

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My post count shows I come here infrequently, but since Bill was one of my closest friends I needed to resurface.  I was Deke Thornton on Jazzcorner and Huck Hausmaus on the AAJ board; Bill got me involved with those in the early 200s, and I had goofy fun contributing to the collaborative stories, some of which he started.  

 

Bill and I met in Fall ‘75 when we worked at the University Square Four theaters in Madison, Wisconsin. We started socializing after a little while, and started talking about music.  He was a rocker then; I was listening to some jazz.  By the end of that school year he’d begun to navigate the jazz waters, and it didn’t take him long to eclipse me in his interests and knowledge.  At a desultory party in the apartment I shared with two other people he tried to persuade me to give up trying to invigorate the partygoers with Motown and instead put on Cecil Taylor’s Silent Tongues.  

 

He often cited the Ann Arbor Festival of September 1978 as one of his greatest concertgoing experiences.  He’s left Wisconsin to attend Michigan law school, and I, along with two other guys from Madison, made the trip and joined him. It was a fantastic lineup: Dexter Gordon, Johnny Griffin, Max Roach, Mary Lou Williams, Stan Getz, the Messengers with a young Bobby Watson, many more including his beloved Sun Ra (the first time any of us had seen the Arkestra).  

 

We saw much more jazz over the next few years, in Wisconsin, in Ann Arbor, a few times in Chicago.  He stayed with me and my family a couple of times in DC, where we caught some music, and I spent one night in his family home in Northern Wisconsin, where there was no music that appealed to us at the time.

 

The last time I saw him was Summer 1995, when he visited DC with his wife and son.  His free time was limited but we managed to spend part of a night at the One Step Down - conveniently close to their hotel.  We remained in contact, though - he was second to none as a correspondent. Even after he went to the hospital he texted me that he’d quit spotify because of Joe Rogan’s b.s. and transferred his (9,580 songs!) to Apple.  When the texts stopped coming I learned he’d been put on a ventilator and sedated.  

 

I miss him a lot.

 

Edited by Darcy Pandanus
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On 3/10/2022 at 7:12 AM, Rooster_Ties said:

I knew Bill through the board better than in person, though I saw him at a few jazz shows about 5 times total over 8 years.

He was a nice and thoughtful guy, and very kind. Joe, my dearest friend in Kansas City, knew Bill quite a bit better than I did — and he introduced us in about 2004 (and Joe called me about Bill’s passing last night).

Bill and his (then) wife had an adult son with developmental challenges (who required their constant supervision), and they made the brave decision not to institutionalize him. This kept Bill from going to very many live shows (maybe once a month, at most). And I think every time I saw Bill in person it was at The Blue Room in KC (and he always brought his son with him, which was usually challenging, and only enabled Bill to stay for one set, at most — and sometimes he had to leave early even from that one set).

But I never saw Bill ever complain, or show anything but an infinite amount of patience with his son. A truly remarkable father.

I also never had the opportunity to get to know Bill much in person — and knew him far better from his presence on the board (and also on the Steve Hoffman Forums).

Bill always seemed like one of the nicest guys you could ever think of.

Wow... Really shocking news to hear, RIP.  The fact he and his wife had a developmentally disabled child really, my heart goes out, my late mother ignored the advice of those to institutionalize me and here I am.

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  • 3 months later...
On 3/18/2022 at 11:30 PM, Darcy Pandanus said:

 

 

My post count shows I come here infrequently, but since Bill was one of my closest friends I needed to resurface.  I was Deke Thornton on Jazzcorner and Huck Hausmaus on the AAJ board; Bill got me involved with those in the early 200s, and I had goofy fun contributing to the collaborative stories, some of which he started.  

 

Bill and I met in Fall ‘75 when we worked at the University Square Four theaters in Madison, Wisconsin. We started socializing after a little while, and started talking about music.  He was a rocker then; I was listening to some jazz.  By the end of that school year he’d begun to navigate the jazz waters, and it didn’t take him long to eclipse me in his interests and knowledge.  At a desultory party in the apartment I shared with two other people he tried to persuade me to give up trying to invigorate the partygoers with Motown and instead put on Cecil Taylor’s Silent Tongues.  

 

He often cited the Ann Arbor Festival of September 1978 as one of his greatest concertgoing experiences.  He’s left Wisconsin to attend Michigan law school, and I, along with two other guys from Madison, made the trip and joined him. It was a fantastic lineup: Dexter Gordon, Johnny Griffin, Max Roach, Mary Lou Williams, Stan Getz, the Messengers with a young Bobby Watson, many more including his beloved Sun Ra (the first time any of us had seen the Arkestra).  

 

We saw much more jazz over the next few years, in Wisconsin, in Ann Arbor, a few times in Chicago.  He stayed with me and my family a couple of times in DC, where we caught some music, and I spent one night in his family home in Northern Wisconsin, where there was no music that appealed to us at the time.

 

The last time I saw him was Summer 1995, when he visited DC with his wife and son.  His free time was limited but we managed to spend part of a night at the One Step Down - conveniently close to their hotel.  We remained in contact, though - he was second to none as a correspondent. Even after he went to the hospital he texted me that he’d quit spotify because of Joe Rogan’s b.s. and transferred his (9,580 songs!) to Apple.  When the texts stopped coming I learned he’d been put on a ventilator and sedated.  

 

I miss him a lot.

 

Belated thanks for this remembrance.

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